


Of Dead Butterflies and Blue-Gray Bruises

by vanillascribble



Category: Big Little Lies (TV), Big Little Lies - Liane Moriarty
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 07:16:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12765876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillascribble/pseuds/vanillascribble
Summary: Celeste flinched as she dabbed more concealer to her neck, pausing for a moment to look at the woman in the mirror staring back at her. With her sun-kissed ginger hair in disarray framing her pale sad face, she looked nothing like the picture-perfect housewife of a wealthy and respected businessman of Monterrey. Nothing like what people assumed, no not at all.





	Of Dead Butterflies and Blue-Gray Bruises

 

 _Baby, I'm staring at a piece of us_  
_Shattered on the sidewalk_  
_Tragic, broken like a china doll_  
_Burning like a gunshot_

 _My heart was beating_  
_And so was yours_  
_We threw each other_  
_Down on the floor_  
_My heart is breaking_  
_It's made of glass_  
_I guess anything that's good never ever lasts._

-Lyrics taken from ** _Glassheart_** by Leona Lewis-

 

 

Celeste flinched as she dabbed more concealer to her neck, pausing for a moment to look at the woman in the mirror staring back at her. With her sun-kissed ginger hair in disarray framing her pale sad face, she looked nothing like the picture-perfect housewife of a wealthy and respected businessman of Monterrey. Nothing like what people assumed, no not at all. If anything, she looked tired, washed out, as if the waves have dragged her out to sea; tumbled her up and down; laughing at her as they did so before spitting her out back to shore after they were done playing with her. God knows that’s exactly how she felt each time Perry erupted. Perry, with his light blue eyes that mirrors the ocean raging outside their haven. Perry, who could make her tremble with various emotions each time he whispers sweet nothings into her ear. Perry, who could make her forget everyone and everything as he drove himself further into her, claiming her as his Queen, his Goddess, _his Everything_. The same Perry who could tear her carefully stitched-up world apart when he accidentally stepped upon a piece of Lego that the twins forgot to put away after playtime. The same Perry who could slam her forehead so hard against the fridge for forgetting to pick him up at the airport that she started seeing Jupiter, Saturn and Mars circling around in the air above her. The same Perry who would strip her dignity apart and tear it piece by piece, each time she refused his advances at the wrong moment. Rape. She hated the word—hated its meaning. How could she claim to be raped by her own husband, the love of her life—the man she has chosen to marry despite her father’s objection?

 

 

**_-Ten years ago-_ **

  
“He doesn’t love you, honey. He wants to own you. Loving and possessing are two very different things. Are you sure this is the man that you want to spend your whole life with?”

  
“Pa…you’ve only met him a few times. I…I know he’s a good man—and..and he loves me, Pa.”

  
“A father can always tell what kind of man is courting his daughter, honey. Even if the daughter is blinded by love. He is not the one for you, Celeste. I beg you, please think this over. Don’t destroy your whole life with one decision like this.”

  
“Pa…I love him. I…I can’t imagine marrying anyone else but him. He’s warm, he’s funny, he’s gorgeous, he looks at me as if I’m the only woman in the room, and he..he could never hurt me, Pa. It’s…it’s just not in him. Give him a chance, please..Pa?”

  
And her father abided by her wish, giving her away at the altar to her tall blue-eyed groom who promised to love and cherish her, until the end of their lives. But what she could never forget was what her father whispered to her, just moments before he let her go. “How I wish I am wrong, and you are right to believe in him, Celeste honey. How I wish I am wrong..”

She stared up at him then, wanting to ask whatever he meant, but he simply gave her fingers a quick squeeze before she turned towards her groom, who was waiting to claim his prize.

  
After the vows were said and the rings were exchanged, something in the way Perry wrapped his arm around her waist and dragged her up to him, something in the way his thumb pressed hard against her lower jaw, pushing her lips upright to meet his, something in the way he kissed her so hard, almost biting her made her want to re-think her decision. Something similar to a warning signal flashed at the back of her mind and suddenly she wanted to shove him hard, throw her bouquet of white lilies and baby breaths towards him and face the crowd, announcing that she has a made a huge, _huge mistake._

  
But then Perry broke the kiss and pulled away, and those ocean-blue eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled down at her. His eyes never leaving hers, he carefully raised her gloved fingers to his lips and kissed them, calling her Mrs. Wright. _Surely someone so gentle, someone who seemed to genuinely care about her wellbeing would never hurt her?_ So she silenced the sirens, convinced herself that it’s probably just the jitters and the result of not having enough sleep for the past few weeks in preparation for the wedding that must have gotten her so worked up. _Yes, that must be it._ She flashed a smile so wide until her cheeks began to hurt so that everyone could see how happy she is, how she has made the right choice after all.

Everyone began to clap and offer congratulations; seemingly happy or secretly envious upon such beautiful union. Everyone except for one person that really mattered to her, that is. Her father stared at her from across the hall, and she could have sworn that a lone tear freed itself from his eyes moments before he turned his face away, afraid she would see it.

_It’s the happiest day of my life, Pa. Can’t you see?_

  
But her father kept his face turned away and began walking out towards the door. As she noted the sag of his shoulders from the back, she thought it was weird how she has never seen him so defeated before.

  
_He makes me happy, Pa. Genuinely happy..I’ll…I’ll be alright…right? Right, Pa?_

  
But her father just kept walking out the door.

 

 

A knock on the bathroom door jolted her back to the present time, before Perry walked in, flashing a huge grin as he did so.

  
“Ready to go?” he asked as he came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, nestling his long tapered fingers atop her stomach.

  
“Just…just give me a couple more minutes. I’m not finished with my make-up yet.” She tried to evade his lips as they seek out to trail little kisses behind her neck.

  
“Whatever took you so long? The play is going to start in thirty minutes. Besides, you don’t need heavy makeup—you’re always beautiful, Celeste. Always. So much so that I’m afraid that one day someone might come and steal you away from me.”

  
“…”

  
“What? Did I say something wrong?” His eyes implored hers in the mirror, challenging her to say something back at him.

  
“I…no, just forget it, Perry.”

  
“What? Say it, I know you were about to say something.”

  
“I wasn’t..”

  
“Just fucking say it to my face!” he turned her around, tilted her face upwards so that she has no choice but to look him in the eye.

  
“Perry, we’ll be late to the—”

  
“FUCKING SAY IT!” He began shaking her now, and for a moment she wondered how the very same cerulean blue ocean swimming in the depth of his eyes could turn into a raging tsunami that threatened to swallow her whole in a matter of seconds.

  
She took a deep breath and rasped out the words which moments ago crossed her mind, “I’m not a toy, Perry.”

  
He seemed genuinely shocked at her claim. His eyes blinked twice, seeming to take the words in. She should have left it at that, but something inside her refused to be driven back into remission.

  
“It’s just that…well, sometimes you speak of me like I’m an object—like something you possessed. I’m your wife, Perry. Not a piece of opal or some hidden treasure that someone might find and steal from you.”

  
“…” his eyes searched hers, seeming to confirm something.

  
“…why are you staring at me like that?” She realised the slight tremble in her voice even as she was questioning him.

  
He remained silent for a long, long time, as his eyes travelled across her face, memorizing every line, every plane, every dip and curve of her features. She held her breath the entire time and her muscles tensed up, watching out for a hand that might raise from nowhere and strikes her hard across her cheek. But to her surprise, that didn’t happen. Instead, an unexpected kiss landed atop her crown.

  
“..You’re right, Celeste. Of course you’re not an object…why would you ever think so?” He slowly turned her body to face the vanity mirror again.

  
She stared at the two of them in the mirror and watched in silence as he lifted her hair to one side of her shoulder and proceeded to kiss the exposed skin. His kisses could still give her butterflies, despite all the darkness they have encountered in the past.

  
“You’re my Goddess…always…always the…better half of me..” Perry murmured in between each kiss dropped upon her skin.

  
She closed her eyes and inhaled some air into her lungs, relieved at the exchange. The monster seemed to have left, leaving him as her sweet Perry again. The Perry she fell in love with, married and had wonderful children with. The Perry who swore to always love and cherish her. The Perry who would never, ever hurt her.

  
“I love you, Perry..”

  
“I love you too…and baby? You missed a spot just right here…—wouldn’t want our friends to be asking questions about how exactly you got that bruise now, would we?”

  
Her eyes flitted open at the remark, and he winked into the mirror as he blew warm air at the blue-gray splotch resting beneath her collarbone.

 

That night, as Perry walked out the bathroom, leaving her to finish getting ready, Celeste watched as all her butterflies fell from thin air, their shattered wings resting at her feet like clumps of dead lilies from her wedding bouquet.

_Pa…what—what have I gotten myself into?_

 

 

_\- the end -_


End file.
